


Colors

by AliceAro



Series: In Another Reality [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Bisexual!Amell, Colorblind Soulmate AU, Depression, Emotionally Unstable!Amell, F/M, Grief, Moirallegiance, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Soulmate Color AU, Soulmates, Suicide mention, Talk of Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-08-31 04:37:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8564365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceAro/pseuds/AliceAro
Summary: It's not unheard of that someone can be your soulmate but not the other way around. But it's still a wonderful feeling to meet the one who fills your world with color. Dragon Age AU where you see color the first time you meet your soulmate.





	1. Like Fire and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffy platonic love the first few chapters, soul shattering angst for the later chapters (if any.)  
> [Note I'm not sure yet if I'll write more chapters, it will depend on the response I get for this fic.]  
> [Another note I included a doodle of Solona at the end notes.]

“What color is my hair?”  
  
Everyone in the library seemed to have stop breathing as Amell looked up from her book at the pretty elf with a brave smile on her face. She gave the elf a look of utter contempt. Beside her, Jowan tensed, already thinking about damage control.  
  
“Well?” Petra asked as she sat down, leaning in on her elbows and putting on her best, most charming front. Jowan isn’t fooled though and he sees the slight nervous shaking of the elf’s hands. Petra was scared but she was still trying. He began trying to send her a telepathically warning.  
  
_Oh Petra, sweet, kind Petra, thank you for making an effort but please leave before she tries to set you on fire._  
  
Petra was the Golden Girl of the Tower. She was smart, talented, and beautiful even by elven standards. She was friends with everyone in the Circle (many of the Templars included.) Everyone except Amell, Irving’s star pupil, that is. It wasn’t from the lack of trying. Amell simply was the most unapproachable person in the Tower. Other than Jowan she absolutely refuses to let anyone get close to her. Whether that be emotionally or physically close, and right now Petra was physically way too close to her.  
  
Slowly, not taking her eyes off the elf, Amell laid the flat of her palm on the table in front of Petra and called to the Fade.  
  
Jowan bodily embraced Amell, trapping her arms to her side, as Petra suppressed a shriek as she felt the table grow hot. The Templars whipped their heads in the trio’s direction not entirely sure if something was amiss. They probably should have been paying closer attention, but even though it was part of their jobs, they had better things to do that supervise a bunch of prepubescent twelve year olds. It was harder to detect magic casted through an object than directly at a person, but they knew what Amell was like and they looked to Petra for confirmation. The elf looked at the expecting Templars then back to Amell. Amell paid no attention to the Templers, and bore a message for Petra in her eyes.  
  
_That’s right, go ahead and tell them. You will never be my friend._  
  
Petra pensively chewed on her lip. Tattletaling on Amell was ill advised, she could be very vindictive. Except this is exactly how Amell wanted things to play out. Definitively abolishing any chance Petra had in getting on Amell’s good side.  
  
But Petra was nothing if not determined. Gathering her resolve, the elf let a sweet smile grace her face as she signaled to the Templars that everything was fine. The men were skeptic, but didn’t take further action.  
  
Amell was livid. _Lazy bastards._  
  
Trying to ignore the absolutely vicious look Amell was throwing her, Petra just stared straight into the angry mageling’s eye as she prettily asked, “Could you at least give me a clue?”  
  
Jowan could actually feel the gears turning in his best friend’s mind as she planned all the different ways she could torture the elf. By the gods, he just knew she was considering, wait no, plotting murder. Alright it was time for him to pacify the girl he still held tightly in his arms.  
  
Thanking the Maker for his growth spurt, Jowan tucked the shorter girl’s head under his chin. Keeping one arm still wrapped around her while he brought his other hand to his her nape and began rubbing in soothing circles. He whispered softly to her trying to lull her into a semblance of calm.  
  
“Solona…” At the sound of her name, she let her eyes drift close, as she nestled in her best friends arms. Jowan nuzzled his face in her hair drawing out a content sigh from Solona. She shifted in his arms and pressed her ear to his chest, listening to what he knew was her favorite sound: his heartbeats. He continue to say her name like a lullaby and the world withdrew from Solona until it was only her and Jowan in this moment.  
  
Jowan was her soulmate. From the moment Solona laid eyes on him on the first day she was brought to the Circle, she knew he would be special. Her suspicions were confirmed when he held out his hand in introduction. As soon as their skin brushed, her world exploded in color. The first thing she noted was how his eyes seemed to shine every shade of color in existence. Then the vivid dark hues of his hair seemed to cascade like a beautiful black river that framed his perfect porcelain face. When he smiled, she saw gleaming white teeth behind his pale lips. Solona’s eyes drank in every inch of the boy’s frame, devoting every shade and every shadow to memory. Her soul vibrated with intense, unadulterated affection for this boy and she release a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she beamed at him.  
  
When she saw that the look of bewilderment and awe of her face didn’t echo in his, she knew with every fiber of her being that this boy, Jowan, didn’t, _couldn’t_ see color. The realization threatened to drown her heart in sorrow.  
  
But before she could even fully process this fact, Jowan laughed. It was absolute music to her ears. It resonated so much in her soul that she was filled to the brim with warmth and love and life. It left no room for despair.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” he snorted, it was so cute, “it’s just that you had the goofiest look on your face.” The boy was still chuckling apologetically when the whirlwind of emotions finally settled down enough for Solona to speak.  
  
“Yeah well, you have a silly laugh.” Solona kept her tone light and playful, but just in case she quickly added, “I like it.”  
  
The boy blushed adorably. Solona knew it was from embarrassment and nothing more, but she didn’t care. She knew right then and there she would love this boy with all her heart and would do anything in all of Thedas for him. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t his soulmate, because he was hers.  
  
“Hey, um, that’s a really nice shirt.” She whispered to him conspiratorially, she didn’t want anyone else to know her secret. “It’s a great color on you.”  
  
Jowan stared at her with a look of surprise that made her heart sing. “You could see color? No way, that’s so awesome!”  
  
“Yep, but don’t tell anyone okay.” Solona looked around nervously. “Keep it between us.”  
  
“Okay!” Jowan was so thrilled at his new friend’s ability. “I won’t tell anyone. This is gonna be our super cool secret!” Jowan was practically vibrating in excitement. “Let’s pinky swear it.”  
  
And they did. And for six years, no one else knew. Jowan grew so close to Amell that he was the only one allowed to call her by her first name. He was Amell’s only friend. The only one Amell let get close to her. No one else could breach the distance she set between herself and others. Try as they might, Solona Amell only had room in her heart for her soulmate.  
  
And as Jowan held her, she relived every moment he spent with her. Completely happy in the bubble she shared with her best friend. She had almost forgotten how everything was ruined when someone had eavesdropped on her trying to explain the color green to Jowan. Gossip spread like wildfire in the Tower, and soon she was bombarded with stupid questions by every person who had the audacity to think they had any right to her just because they knew about her ability. If it wasn’t for Jowan constantly appeasing her, she would have burned the whole Circle to the ground.  
  
“You two are so sweet together.” Amell felt a vein throb in her head. She begrudgingly opened her eyes leaving her bubble to stare daggers at the elf intruding in her life. She wondered briefly if the Templars could stop her in time before she electrocuted the elf into oblivion. Thinking of foregoing magic altogether and just strangling the life out of the elf in front of her. Jowan, reading her mind, quickly said.  
  
“Just answer her question, then she’ll go away.” Petra was just about to open her mouth when Jowan shot her a look that left no room for argument.  
  
Solona looked into Jowan’s pleading eyes and relented. She would do anything for him.  
  
Glaring at the elf, she hissed, “Red. It’s red. The color of fire and blood. Which is exactly what you will see if you don’t get out of my face.”  
  
Petra quickly thanked her and scrambled off, but not before promising to catch up with her later. Amell bared her teeth at the elf’s retreating figure and Jowan let out a breath of relief.  
  
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Jowan, ever the voice of reason, said, “Maybe try it without the threats next time.”  
  
“I hate this.” Solona sulked. “You’re the only one who’s supposed to know.”  
  
“It’s not so bad.” Jowan rubbed her back.  
  
“Really? Cause I heard the other mage boys teasing you about being my soulmate. Fucking retards.”  
  
“Language, Sol.” Jowan admonished gently.  
  
Solona suddenly looked guilty. “Look, I’m really sorry everyone found out. I really hate that you might not find your soulmate just because everyone thinks it’s me. I’m really sorry if I somehow screwed things up. This is so unfair for you.”  
  
“Pfft, are you kidding?” Jowan scoffed, then looked at Solona worriedly. “Isn’t it more unfair to you that you’re not my soulmate? I mean the fact that you can see color because of me, it makes me feel . . .”  
  
“Special.” Solona finished for him. “You are special. Very special. To me, you are the most wonderful being in this Maker forsaken world. And no, I don’t think it’s unfair. I think I’m extremely lucky to have found you at all let alone at such a young age. And I truly hope from the bottom of my heart that you will find that special someone who makes you feel the way you make me feel.”  
  
Solona leaned in and whispered into his ear. “Magical.”  
  
Jowan bursted out laughing and couldn’t stop resulting in being kicked out the library. Solona followed suit. When the wheezing died down and he could breathe again Jowan responded, “Oh my gods, that was so incredibly cheesy. You know we’re mages, right?”  
  
Solona just puffed out her chest, “Yeah, well there’s no other word to describe it.”  
  
Jowan just let out a small giggle. He brought his arm around Solona’s shoulders and pulled her in close. “I may not see color and you may not be my soulmate, but you are my Sunshine.” He affectionately called her a nickname that absolutely no one else could use under the threat of painful retribution. Jowan place a quick kiss on his best friend’s forehead. “And I love you so very much.”  
  
Solona’s heart joyously leapt as she echoed the words she will never tired of hearing or saying.  
  
“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	2. Like Honey and Wheat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four year time skip: Solona has changed and it appears so has her soulmate.

As expected, the colors are all off. Amell sat in a chair in front of a vanity and inspected the disaster that was her face.  
  
_I can’t believe I let them do this to me._  
  
Lessons were cancelled that day due to a mishap in a kitchen. Apparently some dumb kid on kitchen duty decided to take the easy way out and casted a spell to cook the meals faster. He ended up giving food poisoning to half the senior staff. The senior enchanters, including her instructor for the day, were now in the infirmary. All of them either sick with a stomach virus or healing those that were.  
  
Having some free time in their hands, the female apprentices decided to give each other makeovers. Amell was somehow dragged into the revelry, but sadly instead of booze it was with contraband makeup. Cursing under her breath, Amell lamented the fact that the girls no longer feared her company because she had mellowed out in her teenage years.  
  
Amell was an excellent makeup artist. Which was not unexpected since she wasn’t after all colorblind, but that meant it fell solely on Amell to apply the cosmetics on her fellow mages. Despite their inability to see color, the girls were absolutely giddy when Amell smeared powder on their faces, brushed rouge along the apples of their cheeks, coated their lips with paint and lined their eyes with charcoal.  
  
When Amell was finished, all the girls looked absolutely divine.  
  
On cue, as Amell got up to leave, Petra (looking more radiant with eye shadow that made her eyes sparkle) held up a powder brush and some blush indicating that it was Amell’s turn to get a makeover. All the girls knew Amell didn’t do her own makeup in front of others, proclaiming that was a little personal for an audience. Classic Petra, however, was always trying to lessen the distance Amell had set between herself and others. Following suit, the other girls gather their materials and advance on Amell. Absolutely mortified at the prospect of so many people touching and prodding her face, Amell scrambled to make a hasty retreat. However the girls, with the enhance beauty Amell gave them, looked up at her with glossy doe eyes and adorably pursed pouty lips.  
  
Amell’s face turned beet red.  
  
_Damn! Why did I make them so pretty?_  
  
The reason Amell no longer identified as an extremely unsociable, anger-prone menace with a penchant for violence was because she grew up into a hormonal and horny teenager with a preference for a pretty face and a soft body in bed. Her abrasive attitude as a child was not at all attractive to the fairer sex and ever since puberty, she has been more inclined to please (read as: seduce) the girls in the hopes of getting intimate with them. This isn’t to say she’s completely docile now. She was still rough around the edges but she was now more susceptible and welcoming to human (and elf) contact.  
  
A pair of honey colored eyes gleamed at hers among the sea of girls. The owner of those dazzling eyes was one beautiful mageling who has come of age and has on more than one occasion favored Amell’s company. The mageling bowed her head and let her silken curls frame her face in a way that made Amell’s heart pound. Those soft curls were once entwined in her fingers. They were a shade of dried wheat that brought a scent of warm bread to Amell’s sense.  
  
_Caltha._  
  
It wasn’t her name, rather a term of endearment that Amell called her. Claiming that their coupling was like a sweet mellow flash of yellow.  
  
When Caltha curled one perfect finger and pressed it to her smiling, luscious lips, a sign of her delight by the girls’ merriment, Amell knew she’d get lucky tonight if she relented to being all the girls’ guinea pig as they tried their skills at makeup. So with a sigh, she sat down in the middle of the group and closed her eyes as the girls giggled with delight.  
  
Amell was an excellent makeup artist. The handiwork of the other mage girls, on the other hand, was terrible. Now she sat in front of the vanity, the other girls having retired to other dorms, and examined the resulting mess of the girls’ exploits. She winced as she noted the blotchy paint on her lips and the uneven line around her eyes. The girls have used too much blush on her cheeks, and even gave her a red nose. Probably thinking it was the same shade, they had used yellow eye shadow on one eye and purple on the other. The colors not only clashed but they blended the purple one with more smoky colors giving her a vestige of a black eye. Her beautiful bronze sun-kissed skin was even marred with chalk-white powder completely ruining her natural Riviani beauty.  
  
Amell looked awful, and she pinched her nose in frustration.  
  
_Honestly, the things I do for sex._  
  
It didn’t help that her hair looked like it got the business end of a fire rod. With her uneven bangs, fly-away ends, and matted strands, she had to admit that when it comes to hair she was a total and utter failure. Amell cut her own hair so she had no one to blame but herself. She had let the other girls paint her face, but refused to let them touch her hair. A brush was one thing but no way in hell would she let anyone near her with a sharp object. Her shoulders bristled, shamed at the thought of being so phobic.  
  
Briefly, she entertained the thought of completely wiping all the gunk off her face. Although that meant she would risk offending Caltha and the other girls. It surprised her every time when she realized she actually wanted their validation. The feeling was still somewhat foreign to her, it having only recently developed. Still she could always _make up_ (Amell laugh at her own pun) an excuse involving the Templars and how she didn’t want to be caught wearing contraband cosmetics. Except that wasn’t really much of an excuse. All the Templars were colorblind and couldn’t possibly detect the colors on her face. Moreover even if they did suspect the presence of cosmetic powder or other such substance, a mage could simply wipe it off and claim that it was just dirt or filth on their face and the Templars would be none the wiser.  
  
Amell was still contemplating these thoughts, when a lanky torso came into view of her vanity mirror.  
  
“Hello sister,” said a low voice. Fully aware that she now sporting a ridiculously silly grin her face, Solona turned to her brother. Over the years, she and Jowan have taken to calling each other brother and sister. It was absolutely fantastic to have someone she could call family. Having been brought to the Tower at a young age, Solona had no memories of her biological origins. But it just felt so right to regard Jowan as her brother, after all a sibling’s bond and love are just as strong as that of a lover’s. Jowan was her friend, brother, and most importantly her soulmate. Any title she could attribute to their relationship was welcome.  
  
“Greetings brother,” Solona took note of the excitable way her brother seemed bounce on his feet and funny way his mouth twisted as he bit his lips to stop from smiling. Right away she knew her brother had something he eagerly wanted to tell her, but from the way his eyes kept darting to door, he clearly wanted this to be a secret. “Don’t worry, there’s no one around brother. They’re all at the dining halls for a late lunch now that danger of food poisoning was gone.” Solona stood up and lean closer to her brother and whispered, “What’s on your mind?”  
  
Jowan let out an ugly snort which Solona thought was downright adorable. Still chewing on his lips Jowan muttered, “I’m sorry, it’s just…” he indicated to her face and said the next part slowly, “I thought yellow and purple weren’t complementary colors.”  
  
“Not necessarily.” Solona began. “If you study the color wheel you will notice that they’re opposite one another –” Her brother’s words finally sunk in.  
  
There was a moment of paralyzing tension as shock froze Solona in place.  
  
“Sister…” Jowan reached out nervously, “…um, Sol?”  
  
A second later, he was tackled to the floor.  
  
He felt Solona’s hands twist from slope of his shoulders blades to the back of his head, carefully cradling him from the blow of the fall as his sister began her rapid fired interrogation.  
  
“What in the Maker….? Did they also….? When did this…? How did you…? Where was the….? Why did you only…? Are you….? Is this really….?” Solona was breathless by the time she settled on asking the most important question:  
  
“Who?”  
  
He didn’t say a word, but Jowan was practically winded by his sister’s reaction.  
  
“Her name is Lily.” Jowan tried to prop himself off the floor but Solona’s weight only allowed him to sit upright. She was still looking at him with questioning eyes. “She’s Chantry initiate here in the Tower. I sat next to during morning prayers.” He looked down at his sister who was still hanging on his every word. “I can, no, we can see color. Solona. . . I found my soulmate.”  
  
At the word, Solona waited for the toxic claws of jealousy to come rearing its head from the pit of hate that she harbored for anything or anyone that had to do with the Chantry or the Tower that posed as threat to her relationship with Jowan. She closed her eyes expecting that ugly feeling to latch itself to her heart any second.  
  
It never came.  
  
Solona thought she could die from happiness right then and there.  
  
“Jowan…bother,” By the Maker, she was crying. “I am so happy for you.”  
  
Jowan sagged, relieved by his sister’s words. “Oh Solona, I think I’m in love. We spent all morning together, just talking and it was…”  
  
“Magical.” Solona finished for him. Jowan made a face obviously remembering their conversation four years ago.  
  
Solona laugh wholeheartedly at the thought and she flashed her brother a brilliant smile. She gave Jowan a quick peck on the nose and said. “See, I told you so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably write the angst after New Years. Also please review!  
> Also here's a doodle of my Solona.  
> 


	3. Like Mint and Tea Leaves, Like Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two year time skip: Solona has plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, it's been half a year since I've updated this fic. OTL

Flame light reflected off one of the Templar’s armor causing the resulting flare to offend Amell’s sensitive eyes. Changing angles to avoid the glare, the mage was now flatly pressed against the surface of the crawl space as she continued to spy on the oblivious Templars.  
  
Hidden in the night’s shadows, Amell took note of any changes in the guard rotation. The individual Templars’ tendencies, vigilance, and general aptitude were also on full display for her to evaluate. With a contemptuous curl of her lip, she jotted down in her mind which Templars were lax, lazy, and incompetent. The answer was almost all of them. But that was fine, they were the marks in her plan. It would not be difficult to time it just right so once the wheels were in motion it was these kinds of Templars that were on duty.  
  
Stifling a yawn, Amell gave the Templars one last cursory glance. She rolled her stiff shoulders as she looked for any weaknesses she could exploit. When dark eyes discovered nothing new, the mage pressed closer to the shadows and vanished.  


* * *

  
Silent feet padded through the pitch black room of the apprentices’ dormitory. The moonless night concealed all the forms and faces of her sleeping fellow mages, (although it was only for one mage that she was looking.) No matter. She did not need sight to find him.  
  
A hand waved through the air and it instantly came alive with magic. With barely a conscious effort, Amell weaved an arcane spell and acquired the heighten senses of a canine. After tilting her head up and suppressing the urge to howl, the mageling took in a deep breath and allowed her sense of smell to shape her surroundings.  
  
Everything smelled faintly of grass and morning dew. There was a tiny twist in her chest that Amell’s mind refused to acknowledge. The mages in her age group were allowed to stroll outside around the hill of Kinloch Hold that morning. An activity which the Templars denied her. She told herself that it didn’t matter, that she didn’t care. But later when Jowan found her in her usual secluded spot in the library, he had tucked a dainty white flower behind her ear. Her soulmate’s fingers were quick to wipe away the tears that fell from her eyes.  
  
Amell shook the thought out of her head. She concentrated again as her senses honed in on the scent of herbs and tea leaves. There was only one mage her age that drank tea and was proficient in botany. A silly grin graced her face as she made her way through the room sidestepping any obstacles with ease.  
  
Apprentices don’t have assigned beds, and often didn’t sleep in the same bed as the night before. Instead of searching for an unoccupied bed, Amell would more often than not opt to share a bed with someone else. Those bedmates were always her lovers. All except for the one she was making her way towards now.  
  
Amell crawled under the soft blanket that covered Jowan, wrapped her arms around his ridiculously tall frame, and pressed his back to her chest. Her movements were slow and subtle careful not to wake the precious sleeping boy. But as soon as she closed her eyes, Jowan had twisted in her arms and was facing her. He was awake.  
  
 _Oops._  
  
Magic erected a wall of air around the bed to trap any sound from coming out. Solona was about to apologize when Jowan spoke.  
  
“Make a wall of darkness, too.”  
  
Solona quirked an eyebrow but did as she was asked and concealed them. Once the darkness was in place, Jowan sat up and summoned green Fadelight in his palms. His illuminated features were not happy.  
  
“Where have you been?”  
  
“Spying on the Templars,” Solona answered immediately, wondering why Jowan was so upset. “I told you this already.”  
  
“Again? Why?” Jowan expression changed from unhappy to worried. It broke Solona’s heart to see him distressed.  
  
“Why do you ask? What’s wrong?”  
  
“They were looking for you.” Jowan kept his voice low but it was unnecessary. Her soundproof wall was impenetrable. “I think they’re still looking. Sol, if they can’t find you they’ll punish you.”  
  
“Wouldn’t they have to find me first to punish me? Aw!” Jowan had pinched her. Solona tried to wave of his concern. “Relax, once they see me in the morning everything will be fine. That’s laziness and bureaucracy for you.”  
  
“But this is the fourth night in a row that they couldn’t account for your whereabouts. They are getting dangerously suspicious.” Jowan blew out a breath and a scent of mint tickled Solona’s nose. She bit her inner cheek to keep from laughing. It would seem her brother took her advice on chewing on lamiaceae leaves. Ladies tend to appreciate the freshness of it. Especially when you’re kissing them. This Chantry initiate, Lily, was gonna have to thank her big time when they finally meet.  
  
Jowan tugged at Solona’s ear to get her attention. “Why are you even doing this? What’s the point of spying on them?”  
  
Solona chewed on her lip. “I’m doing this for you.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’m planning… something.” She was hopping to postpone this conversation until all the pieces of her plan were in place. But judging by Jowan’s stern expression he wasn’t going to let her off easily. Not without explaining herself completely that is.  
  
Solona took a deep breath. _Let’s get this over with._  
  
“You and Lily should escape after your Harrowing.” The already alabaster skin of her soulmate paled at the word.  
  
“No, don’t get scared. Hear me out.” Solona said hurriedly, causing her brother to panic was the last thing she wanted. “It’ll be perfect! A Harrowed mage’s phylactery is immediately transported to Denerim. I can easily arrange for an ‘accident’,” Solona air quoted the word, “to happen on transit. And before they could even draw up the incident report and extract more blood from you, you would have already escaped with no way for the Templars to track you.” Solona was practically beaming with excitement, obviously pleased with herself for coming up with a brilliant plan.  
  
“Plus even if things go awry, Chantry law dictates that you can’t be made Tranquil. So even if they somehow manage to recapture you, they’ll probably just detain you in the dungeons. While the higher ups are bickering about what to do with you, it’ll give me plenty of time to bust you out. You’ll have escaped again. You’ll be long gone when they finally come to get you.”  
  
“Why are you so confident we could pull this off?” Jowan was apprehensive. “How would you even sneak into the dungeons? Can we even move around the Tower undetected by ever vigilant Templars?”  
  
Solona tried not to sound so condescending. Conceited, yes, but not condescending. “Who am I? Think of everything I have shown proficiency in. Believe me when I say even the brilliant escape artist Anders… whatever-his-last-name-is’ attics will pale in comparison to what I have planned.”  
  
“So dramatic,” Jowan replied dryly, his expression unamused. Then he jerked suddenly. “Wait, your plan… it doesn’t include you escaping with us?”  
  
Solona hesitated. “No.”  
  
“Sol-”  
  
Gentle, sun-kissed hands cupped her soulmate’s face. “Jowan,” she said softly. “This is for the best. I am not- It’s not worth- look this isn’t forever. One day I’ll leave too. But not yet, not with you. Please just trust me.”  
  
Jowan opened his mouth to object, but the look in his sister’s eyes told him enough. There was no point in arguing; the discussion was over.  
  
Instead, Jowan twisted his head and pressed a kiss into Solona’s open palm. The female mage turned a faint red in color. He sighed heavily.  
  
“Harrowing, huh?” Jowan winced at the word and Solona circled her thumbs against his cheeks in a soothing motion. “You know that won’t be for years, right? Apprentices don’t usually go through that test till they’re well into their twenties. That won’t be in another four years for me at the least.”  
  
“Twenties… huh, that’s… strange.”  
  
Jowan stiffened. Her fingers have moved to his hair line and was massaging his temples. There was a lot of tension in his muscles suddenly. “What, why?”  
  
“That can’t be right.”  
  
“Why’s that?” Jowan’s heart sank even before Solona uttered her next words.  
  
“Because love.” Deft fingers continued to stroke through his hair, and along his cheekbones. Solona did not seem to know the horror behind the words as she blithely said:  
  
“My Harrowing is tomorrow.”


	4. Like Agony and Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Less than a day later, everything went to hell.

_How did this happen?_  
  
It was an explosion of absolute agony. Something sharp and broken ripped through the veil containing her power and it came out in a horrible, tangible torrent of uncontrollable sorrow. Thoughtless, wild tendrils of magic lashed out from a prone figure on the Tower floor. Standing fixtures were flung across the room. Hanging tapestries whipped out and were shredded to pieces.  
  
Men in armor sensed an incoming powerful burst of Fade energy and brought their shields up. The efforts were futile and soon they were violently pushed back, stumbling, pressed against the walls as wave after wave of raw magic hit them. The Templars could do nothing to end the destructive storm the young mage girl was unleashing.  
  
Not even the mage girl herself was able to stop her own feral magic.

* * *

_How did this happen?_  
  
There was that thought again as her memories reshaped the images of the earlier events of this unholy day. Unsurprisingly, Solona Amell passed her Harrowing. And it was the quickest, cleanest Harrowing in all of the Kinloch Hold’s history.  
  
_What a joke,_ she had thought, _to have named it so._ As she stepped out of the Fade she mused that if this was a horrible ordeal for mage and Templars alike, then other people were so very weak, indeed. Then she collapsed to the floor unconscious.  
  
The face of her beloved soulmate greeted her the next time she had awoken. Her heart thrummed happily in her chest and warmth flooded her body.  
  
She asked if they were fucking.  
  
Apparently Jowan wasn’t the only one there waiting for her to open her eyes, because loud and unhinged laughter erupted from the audience around her. Several people, some in robes, others in armor, shook in fits of mirth. Later she would feel terrible humiliation at her uncharacteristically stupid demeanor, but at that moment she only felt confusion as to why others had reacted that way. For some reason she couldn’t remember and simply wanted to verify the nature of their relationship. Nothing wrong with that, is there?  
  
The rest of the morning was a series of other dumb inquires and observational statements of which the other occupants of the Tower delighted in.  
  
_I’m a mage?_  
  
_Mice sure are small._  
  
_Why can’t I go outside?_  
  
_It hurts when I look at the sun._  
  
_How do I get to (Eye? Ear? Er?) Irving’s office?_  
  
_There are books everywhere._  
  
_St- airs?_  
  
It was as if she had just gotten a new brain and was still working out the kinks.  
  
Hours later, after Amell had gotten back full cognition of her mind (and after getting revenge on those who made fun of her,) she had met Duncan. A handsome man with tan skin like hers and sharp grey-speckled eyes that took her in, assessing her.  
  
_Well,_ she thought, _this one doesn’t look weak._  
  
Amell might have liked him if the Grey Warden had not off-handedly mentioned the possibility of recruiting her as she escorted him to his room. The rogue’s hands went for his weapon as the mage snarled and summoned flames in her hand.  
  
“Do it," she seethed, "and I'll be a living nightmare worst than any Blight.”  
  
She turned and stormed off not bothering to hear his response. There was no way she was ever going to let anyone take her away from Jowan.  
  
She remembered he had wanted something and sought him out. She found him and met her soulmate’s _soulmate_ for the first time.  
  
The first thing she took note was the reddish brown of the initiate’s Chantry robes. It matched her lush, vibrant hair giving her a lovely sort of warmth.  
  
Amell did not recognize the emotion she felt when she saw the love Jowan had for Lily in his auburn eyes. But the burning hatred that came after was unmistakable as Jowan told her the plans Lily discovered to make him Tranquil. They accused him of practicing blood magic.  
  
_How dare they?_  
  
She was going to kill them all.  
  
“I’m not.” Jowan quickly said, "I didn't do anything wrong." The anger in her eyes must have frightened him. Did he think it was directed at him?  
  
“I know this and I love you.”  
  
A few words were exchange and then she was off to acquire a fire rod.  
  
In the library, she saw the Grey Warden again. Amell had expected some backlash from her earlier threat but when Duncan looked at her, she was surprise to discover there was no fear or anger in his eyes. Just a respectful acknowledgement of her existence.  
  
“Why are you called Grey Wardens? Your uniform is blue, white, and silver.”  
  
Surprise colored Duncan’s face.  
  
“You can see color?”  
  
Amell flinched back. She wasn’t aware that she had opened her mouth.  
  
“I- I have to go.” She fled quickly before the Grey Warden could stop her.  
  
By mid afternoon, Amell, Jowan, and Lily were in the Tower basement and she had forgotten all about the day’s earlier events.  
  
The phylactery was destroyed and her soulmate was saved. Lily has secure a passage out of this damnable Tower and soon they will have escaped and be free to live out the rest of their lives together.  
  
Dread dug its claws in Amell’s heart and she fought back tears. She did not expect to have to say good-bye to Jowan, her friend, brother, and soulmate, so soon. But she would not ruin this joyous occasion with her sadness.  
  
_This is for the best,_ she thought. _This is for his happiness._  
  
Mercifully, the feeling of peace and contentment settled comfortably in her soul.  
  
It did not remain there for long.

* * *

_How did this happen?_  
  
There was blood everywhere.  
  
Jowan had lied to her. Her most trusted friend, her closest companion, _her soulmate,_ had lied to her.  
  
And he didn’t even spare a glance at her as he fled.  
  
Solona laid on the floor forgotten.  
  
Her magic exploded as an entropic storm of unstoppable force.  
  
The young mage couldn’t concentrate. Pain radiated throughout her body. Her heart felt like it had fractured like glass and then grinded into jagged sand. It flowed through her veins like fire and acid, ruining her from within.  
  
She vomited her guts out.  
  
A moment later she was starving for air, but when she took in a sharp breath she tasted rot in the air. She let out a choked scream and her magic convulsed in response.  
  
Amell was distantly aware of the mayhem her power was causing, tried to rein in some control. But the agony shattered her concentration. Her senses blackened and sharpen in nauseating intervals of bleak deleterious awareness. Cold sweat drenched her skin and chilled her to the core completely shutting down her ability to think.  
  
Then for a nightmarish moment her world went utterly dark. Her world was never dark. Even when she slept, the Fade brought color to her slumber. In that split second of nothingness, black wasn’t even present. There was no texture, no shape, and no color. There was just an indescribable void. Then it was over. When the world came back to view, she looked down in her hands. Droplets of tears stained her palms. The translucent liquid was speckled with streams of a light shade of red. It faintly registered that she was looking at diluted blood.  
  
She was bleeding through her tears.  
  
Despite this, her focus narrowed in on the color, trying to commit it to memory. Pain flared behind her eyes, and vicious ear-splitting scream tore through her. When her lungs lost the capacity to sustain her tortured cry, she was left dry heaving on the cold floor. It hurted. It hurted, but she had to remember. Somehow she knew the shade of red was wrong. It was too light. It was as if the color was fading. Like her world was slowly succumbing to an abyss that threaten to consume everything she had ever known. Desperately, she recounted objects and their corresponding color that she knew by heart.  
  
_The sun is yellow. Leaves are green. Moonlight has a soft silver glow. And Jowan’s eyes were gray._  
  
Wait, no. Gray? That can’t be right. Amell remembers that his eyes were a kaleidoscope of color. Warm honey brown with specks of blue, green and in the right light, gold. But never gray. Never gray.  
  
The right memory finally surfaced and Amell could see in her mind’s eyes every shade of Jowan’s eyes. Not a second later, agony like she never felt before, vibrated in her bones and caused her blood to boil. Having not recovered from her previous screams, a strangled, injured noise just pulsed through her body. A hellish thought slowly craved its way to the front of her mind.  
  
_Could these colors be hurting me?_  
  
No. No, this can’t be happening. Frantically searching, through the layer of her own magic, her surrounding for anything that negates her new reality, her eyes darted everywhere. But whenever her eyes fixed on any shade brighter than dust or her mind conjured a color more vivid than mist, pain soon followed.  
  
A pathetic whine escaped her throat. Her magic flickered and began to abate. Still she remained crumbled on the floor, whipping her head in every direction like a mad woman. The Templars were starting to advance on her. There was murder in their eyes. But she didn’t care. Her world was getting dimmer and dimmer by the second, and she could no longer recall the many colors she had so often described to Jowan.  
  
_Jowan._  
  
If nothing else, she prayed to the gods she did not believe exist to let her memories of every single detail of his being remain. No sooner had she chanted the first words of her prayer did her world go dark again. She closed her eyes as the emptiness shallow her whole.  
  
Her magic winked out of existence.  
  
When she opened her eyes again, she saw the Grey Warden, the First Enchanter, and even several Templars eye her with fear and disdain their swords drawn. Despair choked her heart when she realized it was all missing.  
  
“Miss Amell,” the Grey Warden, Duncan, was the first to approach her. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”  
  
“I can’t see it…” The Templars surged forward to restrain her, but the rogue stopped them by saying he had some sort of claim on her. He was going to take her out of Kinloch. Out of this cursed Tower. She would be free.  
  
But she didn’t care. It did not matter. There was no point to anything anymore. Everything was meaningless now.  
  
Duncan cleared the room and tried to address Amell, but she stayed in a state of muted suspension. Several moments later, when Duncan had explained to her about the Grey Warden and the Right of Conscription, none of which she heard, Amell got up off the floor and stared at the Warden Commander with unseeing eyes. Duncan had asked her again to explain what was wrong and this time she answered.  
  
A dull, hollow note of finality resounded in her voice. A girl with a shattered soul sounded.  
  
“I can’t see color anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE:
> 
> Solona's Shattered Soul  
> 


	5. Like Nothing, Like Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days had passed. Duncan only wanted to help her. However something unexpected happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning. Read the tags.

The Warden-Commander stood under the shade of the forest trees to survey the targets. A ready hand rested on the pommel of his dagger as he ordered the mageling to step into the fray. He had planned to observe her first, evaluate her skill in combat, and then intercede when it became necessary. It didn’t become necessary.

His newest recruit made short work of the unlucky band of thieves and thugs. In mere moments, seven grown men laid crumpled on the ground groaning. Some, Duncan noted with amusement, had tears in their eyes. Impressive, the mage girl didn’t even use her staff.

As the rogue stepped out of the forest cover to stand beside the mage, the fallen men flinched and began groveling for mercy. Before Duncan could even open his mouth the men threw coin purses and other stolen valuables at Amell’s feet. The petty criminals quickly fled deeper into the forest. Duncan didn’t bother to pursue them.

“Well, good work.” Duncan patted the mageling on the back and gave her a gentle smile. “The villagers will be thankful to you.” Amell didn’t acknowledge his praises. Just stood inexpressive, shoulders hunched, head down with the same unhappy expression she bore since the Tower. Duncan’s own face fell and he dropped his hand. He sighed internally.

It was just… so damn sad. And unheard of! No one in recorded history has ever lost their ability to see color once they met their soulmate. Even if death occurred, the bereaved was still left with a world bright with color in remembrance of their lost love.

Distant memories of his own mother describing the color of his dead father’s eyes filled his mind. The loss was tragic but his mother always said she considered herself blessed. Now he wonders how Amell considered herself now that her world was devoid of color.

Duncan is not sure if his concern was even warranted. The little tests he’s given her throughout their journey proved that the mage girl could still eat, drink, sleep, and fight despite her new circumstances. She would make a great solider. And that’s really all she needed to be. 

Still there is a sting in his heart whenever the mageling allowed pure devastation to mar her features when she thinks he’s not looking. She’d smoothed her expression into a mask of stony indifference, but Duncan knows the deep pain and sorrow reverberating in her soul.

“Are you alright?” The question was useless. Amell does not answer though her eyes flutter ever so slightly. He bowed his head to look her in the eye. “Amell?”

“I am unharmed.” She intoned impassively.

 _Not what I meant._ Before Duncan could think it through, he squeezed the mage’s shoulder and opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry about your soulmate.” Amell flinched as if he had slapped her. She shook off his hand. Hurt and panic flashed in her eyes as she stepped away from him. Duncan held up his hands to placate her. “I only meant that I can’t imagine the hell you’re going through.”

The stone mask cracked and emotions flashed in Amell’s face too fast for him to read. She brought her arms around herself and let her hair fall over her face to hide her expression.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She said coolly.

“I am only concern for you well-being–”

“That is unnecessary.”

Duncan pressed on. “I admit, I know nothing of your situation–”

“That’s right, you know nothing!” Anger was being held back through her gritted teeth. “You are and always have been colorblind. So you don’t know what you’re saying, you don’t know what you’re asking, and you don’t know anything!”

Magic sizzled dangerously around the mageling. When Duncan opened his mouth to comment, Amell lashed out her hands and phantom claws dragged against his leather armor in warning. Bravely, the rogue stepped towards the angry girl.

“Amell, you are not well.”

“That’s right!” She cooed in vicious, sarcastic delight. _**“My soul is rotting.”**_

With a simple flick of her wrist, the mage conjured up a small tempest. She willed the winds to strike halfheartedly at Duncan. It was an offense to treat a superior in such away, (however minor the insubordination,) but the rogue held his ground entirely certain that no true harm would come to him.

“The sky is grey. The grass is grey. Everything is grey!” Her words were a seething melody to his ears. She threw her head back and laughed without mirth. “And I am to become a Grey Warden. That’s all. There is nothing else for me.””

The winds abated and he took the opportunity to close the distance between them. Raw magic still blistered around her, ready to attack at her command. Unafraid, Duncan gingerly brought his hands up and placed them on the sides of Amell’s face. He tilted her head up to look into her eyes.

“Tell me how you are coping. I want to know if I can help you.”

Anger burned away the sadness in her eyes. Her expression darkened with cold rage and her lips curled around her teeth in a snarl. Blood heated by magic rushed into her cheeks making it hot to the touch. Her voice was a cold, cruel thing.

“You want me to tell you how I’m doing? You want to know how to help me?” Her words were brimming with venom. The breath that whispered against his wrists burned. “How about I tell you then? When you leave me to tend to the fire while you hunt for our next meal, I put my hands to the flame. I know my skin to be brown. But I watch my gray hands turn into a darker shade of gray because that’s all I can see now. I heal myself before you return.”

Duncan let go of her and took a step back in horror.

“When I bathe alone in a river, I take a sharp stone and cut one gash on each hand.” She turns her palms right-side up and he can see a faint white scar on each hand. “I submerge one hand in the water and see if the shade of red that flows would be different from each wound. They’re both gray and I don’t bother to heal it.”

“And at night before I sleep I close my eyes and let myself remember the yellow and blue specks in _his_ eyes.” Duncan tensed. He knew the consequences of that action. “I use a spell to take my voice so I can’t scream. My bones and blood would boil in agony, but I would not stop. And when the pain becomes too much to bare I pass out.” He remembered how she shuddered so badly at night. He had thought she shook with silent tears, but the truth was more alarming.

“But the suffering I put myself is nothing compared to the torture I endure with every thought of him that crosses my mind. With each day- no, with each passing minute I loss a little bit more of what he and I used to be. He was everything to me. He was every smile and laugh, every softness and warmth, and all the good dreams I’ve ever had. My whole word. My literal soulmate. Now he’s gone and with him every color I’ve ever known. So every night I get drunk on pain, but every morning I’m forced to wake up sober in a world where he isn’t with me! And _I. Can’t. Stand. **IT!** ”_

“You want to know how to help me? Make me into a Grey Warden, put me in the front lines of the war, so that I could die in the battlefield. Because my only saving grace, the only think keeping me sane is the knowledge that I can somehow play a part in protecting hi–” her voice cracked, “–in ending this Blight.”

 _You still love him._ Duncan didn’t speak the words, afraid it would break the poor girl and push her over the edge. Instead he said, “I won’t just let you kill yourself.”

Instead of using her magic, Amell surged forward and dug her nails sharply into the flesh of his arm and hand. It broke skin, but Duncan didn’t stop her attack. Hot tears fell from the mageling’s eyes as she started screaming herself hoarse.

 _“You will not deny me my end!”_ She reached up to claw at his face, but Duncan gripped her wrist. The fingers of his other hand curled around the nape of her neck and he drew her to his chest. Amell thrashed and pounded against him with her free hand, but did not bodily push him off. He held her as she forcefully wailed and trembled in his grip.

Long moments passed before Amell’s hand ceased in its beating. Instead it gripped the fabric of Duncan’s uniform and she pressed more closely into him. The rogue stroked her hair soothingly, as the mageling’s cries calmed into shaky hiccups.

Then the mage sniffed and step out of his hold. Her fingers still shook but her composure had somewhat returned.

“I’m– I’m sorry,” she said meekly, not looking him in the eye.

“It’s alright,” and he meant it.

Amell was at a loss for words and she looked around in embarrassment. Her eyes landed on the angry marks she had left on his skin. He waved off her concern, but she timidly reached for his arm. He presented it to her. Small patches of skin were a different shade of gray than it should have been but no cause for alarm.

The mage closed her eyes, placed a hand above the wounds, and chanted a spell. A soft green glow emanated from her fingertips.

Wait. _Green?!_

His world exploded.

A wonderful paralyzing sensation of bewilderment seized him. The forest came alive with color. Shade after shade mingled seamlessly in his vision giving form to their surroundings. Vibrant hues radiated from the heavens to wash the earth with brilliant dancing shades of dusk. Even the shadows casted by the light was a fuller blend of cool tones.

And there right in front of him, tinged with the full spectrum of light, was the beautiful mage he had recruited. Her unruly hair were strands of fine, black ebony the framed her warm tanned face. There was a faint red almost orange blush high on her cheekbones from the blood under her skin. Full olive brown lips curved around gleaming white teeth as she whispered words of her spell.

She was perfect.

He greedily committed every detail to memory. Only distantly aware that Amell had finished her incantation and his wounds had healed. Her magic vanished and all the color flickered out of existence.

His jaw dropped. Amell had still not looked at him, utterly unaware of all the emotions going through him all at once.

“Um,” she stuttered and gesture to the valuables on the ground. “The villagers would probably want these back.” She bent down to gather the items, her back to him.  
  
Did she– did she not know?

The realization threatened to drown him in horror. Duncan took an unsteady step away from her and gawked. It was brief and temporary but there was no mistaking what had just come to pass. The mage girl knelt on the forest ground, completely oblivious to the miracle she just performed.

But Duncan knew and he was afraid.

Solona Amell’s magic had given the Warden-Commander of Ferelden the ability to see color.

_Maker preserve us all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look I finished my first multi-chapter fic. Yay!
> 
> I'm not done with this AU yet. I will have colorblind!Amell meet the other cast of DA:O. But for now the origin story is complete. Thank you so much for reading. Best wishes! \\-^o^-/


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